I’ve just read about DHS secret police snatching people off the street in Portland. I also read a letter demanding that they be withdrawn signed by Oregon senators and representatives.
A letter. Really? Does one quash a secret police in the United States with a letter? I doubt that would be my first choice if I were an elected official whose state was under siege by the damn federal government.
When I consider the endeavors to which I’ve dedicated my life – words, the bass, writing songs, making records – I wonder if my time would have been better spent acquiring firearms and skills with them, along with a thorough understanding of the minutia of the law, which I could use to protect my rights and freedoms on the off chance that the guns would not be needed.
Are you prepared to arm yourself against your government? I’ve been asking myself that question for years. The worse things become in America, the more often I consider my feelings on this subject. I think this is what the second amendment of our constitution must have been about. It’s not for unwashed racists in caps and camouflage with pendulous bellies hanging over their belts, affecting some military pose on the steps of a city hall in a state with liberal carry laws. I think the second amendment had to have been designed for times like these, in which it’s clear that Americans have little choice left but to reject tyranny, forcibly. It’s not someday. It’s now. And all I have are guitars. That’s all I really wanted too. I’m mad as hell about it.
This week there was some story about the Cancer in Chief ordering hospitals to send covid statistics not to the CDC, but directly to Washington. I thought it was interesting that such an “order” held any water at all. This lout sure likes to give “orders,” but his power to give them is always questionable. In most cases, they are just as meaningful as the one I gave the chipmunks who would not stay out of my garden. Yeah, whatever. One of my senators, Bob Menendez, tweeted a response to this “order”, saying that it was a cause for great concern. He believed it to be an attempt to conceal and control crucial information about the disease so that bigger lies could be told about it. He thought it would kill even more Americans. My answer to him was, “Well, what are you going to do about it? What can you do about it? Where are the checks and balances?”
The way I see it, my senators and representatives have one job now. They have to remove this cretin at all costs. I don’t believe that the ability of the legislative branch to oversee the executive branch ends at party affiliation. It’s not as simple as “well, we can’t get the votes, so we can’t convict him, or change this or that.” You’re a politician. Be persuasive. Talk to those clowns. Convince them. That’s your fuckin’ job. I don’t care how hard it is. You wanted the gig. You make it happen. If the malignant White House is gassing Americans, or kidnapping them on the street or doing anything else you call concerning, get off Twitter and get to work. If you can’t provide oversight and keep executive lunacy from killing us all, what the fuck do we need you for?
America is pathetic, the whole world’s punchline. No superlative can express adequately my contempt for its government, not only for its selfishness and stupidity at the top but for its multidimensional cowardice and failure at the lower levels. I feel as if a visit to Washington, D.C. would evoke the same feelings in me as a visit to any forgotten industrial city in America. They all represent inequity, toxic untruth and the betrayal of countless generations. They all bear the stain of death – of spirit and of dreams.
But what of Americans themselves? I’m shocked by my revulsion at this dimwitted populace that celebrates arrogance and ignorance. They are so implacably powerless that jumping into the fire makes them feel strong. I cannot bear their countenance. It is a violation that I should even need to acknowledge them, to hear them, at least until the ventilators quiet them for good. To use a language they might understand, they’re all guilty in the eyes of God, whose name they invoke as they service their fears and prejudices.
By far the most repugnant are the police and the unnamed, unmarked stormtroopers working at the rancorous behest of sociopaths. The evil of which they are the instruments, and that rots America from the inside, to use their language, makes them all traitors. Despite their oaths and their rhetoric, all of America is trampled beneath their jackboots. They are the shameless proof that the Bill of Rights can be invalidated on a whim. The contradiction they embody is so staggering that they will never be human again.
It’s like I said before. We’re on our own. No one is coming to help. What are you gonna do now? I can write my poems and my blog posts, but they will not defeat the Kraken. We need the head of Medusa. This is the scale of our calamity, if you can relate to mythology and such. My frustration and anger lead me to want to inflict pain and fear right back at all of these dangerous, irresponsible people for the unspeakable damage they’ve done. But there is no head of Medusa to thrust aloft in their direction. No amount of pain or fear will bring joy and hope, which is all I really desire.
Perhaps this will make a great tragic story hundreds of years from now, but like in myths and parables, lots and lots of people will be dead before it’s all over. I’m devastated that it’s my story, my country, my time. I’m in awe of what has been taken away from us.